


The Moon Comes Around

by Cinaed



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-16
Updated: 2006-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Radek accidentally walks in on Rodney while he's in the shower, Rodney is embarrassed, Radek is frustrated, and there is a failure to communicate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moon Comes Around

**Author's Note:**

> Fine-tuned by the lovely beta cosmonaut_elf who edited it despite a family crisis and my Word acting screwy. *worships her* This is set sometime in season one. Written for the prompt 'And if the answer is no / can I change your mind?' from philosophy_20.

_The moon comes around, though. I want to   
drag it down and hand it to you and say, "Here,  
this is lovely and useless and it cost me  
a lot of trouble. You can tie it up on  
the river behind your house, and go down to  
look at it whenever you like."_

~Moon Fragment by Everette Maddox 

As soon as he hears that Rodney’s back from his latest mission, Radek heads to the other man’s quarters. By the time he gets to his destination, he can feel himself on the verge of crashing -- his hands are trembling, and he has to keep convincing his eyes that yes, they really do want to focus. Perhaps he should have given into the temptation earlier to take a nap, but at that moment he’d been filled to the brim with coffee, flying high thanks to an over-indulgence of caffeine, working on three hours of sleep in the span of two days.

If he hadn’t been so tired, Radek would have been waiting in the ‘gate room to accost Rodney as soon as they stepped through the Stargate; he must have been in a half-doze when the team had gotten back, because he’d missed their return entirely. He only realized that they were back when he saw Major Sheppard in the hallway.

He frowns at the door for a long moment when Rodney doesn’t respond to the knocks. Radek realizes, of course, that Rodney is probably exhausted after an entire week off-world, but there is a problem that has been nagging at him, one that he’s waited three days to discuss with Rodney. The problem could be major, depending on whether or not Radek is correct in his calculations, and only Rodney can verify that. 

The creeping sensation that he is correct and that energy is being wasted that needn’t be has knotted up his stomach and left him unable to sleep. After all, on Atlantis, energy is almost more precious than water. He has tried to speak to Simpson, Miko, even Kavanagh about his calculations, but it had been above their heads, and he’d resigned himself to waiting for Rodney. 

Despite the way his thoughts are beginning to blur together and the sensation that his bones are beginning to rattle their way out of his skin, he cracks Rodney’s code easily enough and slips into the other man’s room, calling out “Rodney?” when there is no sign of his fellow scientist. Then he hears the shower, and recalls Sheppard grumpily mentioning something about the latest mission involving mud. Lots of mud. 

He sighs and knocks on the bathroom door. “Rodney! I need to speak to you.” 

The response is slow in coming, and Radek is just beginning to suspect that Rodney has fallen asleep in the shower when Rodney snaps, voice strained, “I’m a little busy!” 

“Yes, yes, lots of mud, so I heard,” Radek says, and cannot help the dismissive tone, “but I have been studying the energy outputs and I think I have found a mistake.” 

“You think?” Rodney almost snarls through the door, and Radek blinks at the venom. True, usually Rodney would snarl over whomever’s incompetence has caused the suspected mistake, but this time he seems to be taking offense at _Radek_ for pointing out a possible flaw. 

He glowers at the door. “Fine, found mistake. There, that better excuse for interrupting your shower?” He sighs as his thoughts distort even more; he feels his grasp on English begin to weaken, pronouns slipping out of his reach. Rubbing at his face with a weary hand, he continues, “Rodney, this is _important_.” 

When Rodney doesn’t answer, Radek mutters something vicious in Czech and opens the door. “Rodney, I need-- oh.” Well, that certainly explains why Rodney is irritated at Radek for interrupting his shower. He stares at the flushed man for what is probably a bit too long, but his body isn’t quite obeying him at the moment, and so it takes a long minute before he drags his gaze away and directs his comment to the wall. “Is very important.” 

“So I gathered, seeing as you completely _invaded my privacy_ to tell me about it,” Rodney snaps heatedly, and Radek hears a bit of a tremor in his voice. “Look, go to the lab. I’ll, uh, meet you there.” 

Radek hesitates. Separating means losing precious time that could be spent discussing the problem, but he also suspects that Rodney will not be very talkative if Radek attempts to stay in his bedroom. “Fine,” he says after a moment, and cannot keep the edge of frustration from his voice. He scrubs fiercely at his face and turns on heel, trying to convince his wobbly legs to move at a brisk pace back to the lab. 

There, he pulls up the calculations and the various notes on the problem that he’s been working on the past few days. Even if _his_ eyesight keeps blurring, Rodney at least will be able to go over the calculations. 

Radek squints at the notes, trying to straighten out his thoughts, and frowns when the sudden image of Rodney appears in his head, braced against the shower wall, face flushed from something that definitely wasn’t embarrassment (well, not at first, anyway). He shakes his head. He truly is exhausted. Well, he will sort out the problem with Rodney; then, he will finally get some sleep. 

Resting his chin in his hand, he frowns. Hopefully Rodney won’t be too put out by his ‘invasion of privacy.’ Surely the other man could see that this was a matter that needed to be dealt with. Still, Rodney is a peculiar man, and Radek has no doubt he’s going to be odd about the fact that Radek walked in on him -- how did one phrase it politely? -- ‘pleasuring’ himself in the shower. 

He rubs at his eyes, which are aching and burning all at once, and wonders what is taking Rodney so long. Was the other man _that_ embarrassed? Truly, he wouldn’t have thought Rodney would react to that sort of situation by being embarrassed -- defensive, yes, but not embarrassed, not really. He can almost hear Rodney’s tirade now. “I’ll have you know it’s perfectly natural! Everyone does it -- and this time that’s actually true, not like the spiel on sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll. In _fact_, if you ask me--”

He jerks a little in his seat, head snapping up and heart suddenly pounding, and then slumps a little when he realizes he’d been dozing. Then he frowns, because everything is blurry, and it takes a moment for him to realize that he’s no longer wearing his glasses. After a moment of searching the tabletop, Radek resettles his glasses onto his nose and frowns when he realizes that the calculations and notes are no longer on his laptop’s screen. 

Instead, there is a white screen, filled with the words: **‘Saw the problem and I’ve already fixed it. Go back to sleep. -McKay.’**

Radek just stares for a moment, and then shakes his head, warring between amusement and annoyance. “Only you, Rodney, could come across as smug in two sentences,” he mutters, even as he shuts down the laptop and follows the note’s suggestion to go back to sleep, stretching out on the floor although he suspects Rodney meant going back to his own quarters.

* * *

Miko wakes him early the next morning with a soft hand on his shoulder, a slightly indulgent smile, and a quiet suggestion to go eat. It takes a moment for him to realize that he really _should_. His stomach is so empty that it feels like it’s trying to gnaw on itself. 

He gazes a bit mournfully at the MREs they are being forced to eat. He often misses food from his homeland, like kolaches, but never more than when he is practically starving and a MRE is staring him in the face. He sighs. Perhaps this attempt at a cheese omelet would not be that bad. 

He is still trying to convince himself that this attempt at a cheese omelet wasn’t quite as horrible as usual when a warm voice says, “McKay keep you up at all hours?” 

Radek blinks at Sheppard, who grins back and settles down across from him. “Actually, he told me to go to sleep. Though I think that is perhaps because he thought I was so tired that I would make something explode.”

Sheppard shoots him a look at that is almost, oddly, concerned, and Radek wonders if Rodney had perhaps said something eerily similar, and that Sheppard now thinks Radek is going to destroy one of the labs. “You still look beat.” 

Radek rolls his eyes. “And this is the point where I say thank you for your concern and assure you that I will not cause any explosions, and then we move onto making fun of Rodney behind his back, yes? I like that part of the conversation much better.” 

Sheppard grins. “That is the best part of the conversation,” he agrees. Then his gaze flickers over Radek’s shoulder and his grin widens. “Speaking of the devil--McKay!” He waves a hand, then frowns and looks confused. “Huh. He hightailed it out of here. Looked like he’d seen a ghost.” 

Radek twists in his seat, but Rodney is already gone. He can feel heat prickling under his skin, and tries not to think about how red his face is getting. “Ah, yes. We had a bit of a ‘disagreement’ last night.” He doesn’t dare look back at Sheppard for a moment, and instead tries to coax the blush away from his cheeks. There is nothing for him to be embarrassed about, after all. It had been an accident. 

“Must have been some disagreement,” Sheppard mutters, half to himself, and Radek can feel the other man’s curious gaze boring into the back of his head. 

Radek finally manages to banish the heat from his cheeks and smoothes his expression into a bland one, turning back to Sheppard with a matter-of-fact, “It was.” He ignores Sheppard’s raised eyebrow and begins picking at his omelet, and after a moment, Sheppard shakes his head and launches into a story about Rodney falling face-first into the mud during their mission. 

* * *

At first, Radek is understanding. Apparently Rodney _is_ the type to be embarrassed about that sort of situation. And so Radek leaves him alone for a day, and then two, pretending not to notice that Rodney is avoiding him. By day three, he cannot help but think that Rodney should be over it, moving on. Yes, it was embarrassing, but not _that_embarrassing. He’s also tired of being regulated to one of the smaller labs, because he’s getting the feeling that he’s being punished, and really, the fact that the image of Rodney in the shower keeps popping into his head at the most inopportune moments ought to be punishment enough. 

Especially when Rodney is actually quite attractive, all broad shoulders and blue eyes, and Radek really would prefer _not_ to notice his boss’s good looks, because that just complicates things, and besides, it’s just because Atlantis has forced him into the position of the stereotypically undersexed scientist that he finds himself fixated on the first person he’s seen naked in months. Not that he’s actually fixated, mind you. Still, the image of Rodney in the shower refuses to leave his head, and it is getting irksome. 

On day five, he storms in the main lab, hands on hips, and announces, “You are being ridiculous, McKay.” He belatedly notices that Kavanagh and Simpson are there as well, and ignores their startled looks as they glance away from their computers; instead he focuses on a certain scientist who pointedly hasn’t looked up. 

“Shouldn’t you be in the jumper bay?” Rodney says coolly, not looking away from his laptop, and Radek’s understanding is on the fast-track to becoming all-too-familiar irritation.

Radek folds his arms against his chest. “All jumpers are in perfect working order, and you know it. There is no need for a check-up on the jumpers twice in a single week, and yet you insist on wasting my time with pointless check-ups when I--"

“Have you forgotten who the Chief Scientist here is?” Rodney says, still not looking at him. His tone is flat, dismissive, as though Radek is too beneath him to even mock. “If I give you an assignment, you do it.” 

Radek stares, incredulous, as Simpson openly gawks and Kavanagh looks bemused. “Excuse me?” he says, and feels anger replace incredulity. It is a fierce, hot rage that fills his head and turns his thoughts scarlet; when he speaks, the words taste almost bitter on his tongue. “Excuse me? You cannot treat me like this, McKay! I did _nothing_ except perhaps offend your sensibilities!” He’s vaguely aware that he’s shouting, because from the corner of his eye he notices Kavanagh and Simpson beginning to inch away, but he can’t be bothered to lower his voice. “I apologize! There, now will you stop acting like a child and cease giving me pointless tasks?” 

“Some apology!” Rodney snorts, and he is _still_ looking at his computer screen. Radek’s fingers twitch, wanting to grab Rodney‘s shoulders and force the other man look at him. “You come in and berate me in front of my subordinates--”

“--Only because you have been avoiding me--”

“--You call me a _child_\--”

“--Because you are acting like one--”

“--You offer a half-assed apology that makes it seem like I’m overreacting--”

“--Because you _are_!” Radek bellows, and now he does move to stand behind Rodney, slamming the laptop shut and ignoring the outraged noise that escapes Rodney’s lips. “Look at me!” 

Rodney finally, finally looks at him, although it should actually be defined as a glare, really, with the other man hard-eyed and fuming. There is a dark flush on his cheeks and a mulish set to his mouth, and Radek doesn’t know if he has ever seen Rodney quite this furious before. 

Rodney’s anger only serves to heat up the rage that is now surging white-hot through his veins, to intensify the frustration thickening his accent as he snaps, “_Fine_.” Pointing a finger in Rodney’s face is probably petty beyond measure, but it feels extremely satisfying as he jabs a finger at the other man. “Whenever you decide to stop acting like a child, please, enlighten me. Until then, I will be doing whatever menial tasks you’ve seen fit to force upon me!” 

“Fine,” Rodney snaps back, and the mulish set of his mouth deepens. He waves a hand at the door of the lab and adds a cold, “You were going?” 

Angry words leap to his lips, sharp and cutting and tasting almost metallic, as though they are tangible knives carving up his tongue in their eagerness to lash out at Rodney, but Radek swallows back the retort, and just turns on heel, storming from the lab. He will be the better man, even if Rodney is acting like a spoiled child who--

“Hey, Doc--” Whatever Ford is about to say dies on his lips, and the young man blinks and stares. Radek wonders what his expression must look like, to startle Ford, but he cannot bring himself to care that much. “Uh, you okay, Doc?” 

Again, furious words well up, but Radek just shakes his head and keeps walking. Soon, he will be able to speak without the taste of anger on his tongue, be able to uncurl his fists, be able to think without a red haze accompanying each thought. For the moment, however, he is furious beyond reason, and it will be best for Ford and for himself if he just burns this intense fury off, away from everyone. 

He spends the rest of the day prowling around the jumper bay, cursing fervently under his breath (and occasionally at the top of his lungs) until each and every one of the jumpers has had a second check-up of the week. The profanities leave his throat sore and his voice raw, but at least the sharpness of the words have dulled and the taste of anger has ebbed. 

The email he sends Rodney is short and brusque, informing the man that each and every jumper is in excellent shape (as Rodney should know, since it has only been four days since the last check-up). Radek keeps it cool. Professional. He will not let the science division’s productivity suffer just because he and Rodney are on the outs. 

And so he very pointedly doesn’t write the email that he truly wishes to send to Rodney. He ignores the words that clutter up his brain until his head pounds and his hands ache with the need to type out the furious sentences, to rant and rave and demand why Rodney is being like this, because the sentences that fill his head have taken on a melancholy feel, and Radek refuses to be so pitiful as to say ‘Is our friendship over because of a single, stupid mistake?’ 

He also isn’t sure if he wants to know the answer. 

* * *

In a small community like Atlantis, everyone knows everyone else’s business, and the public fallout of the Chief Scientist and his unofficial second-in-command is known by pretty much everyone within the first hour (even those relatively low in the hierarchy of the rumor mill learn of the event within the next two, three hours). 

The reactions to the argument are varied. Sheppard swings between being amused at how hard Rodney and Radek are working to avoid each other for the rest of their lives and being annoyed, because now Radek refuses to even hear Rodney’s name mentioned and so Sheppard has lost his partner in tormenting Rodney. The other scientists keep their heads low and their opinions to themselves, at least while in Rodney and Radek’s vicinity, though Radek overhears Kavanagh explaining very seriously to one of the marines that it was obvious that Radek had attempted to stage a coup d’etat to take over the science division and failed miserably. Carson tries to play the mediator, but a few particularly vicious insults hurled at him by Rodney apparently squelches _that_ notion, and Carson takes to just watching them worriedly. At first, Elizabeth just raises an eyebrow and wears an expression that suggests she thinks this was blown out of proportion by the rumormongers and that things will get back to normal soon enough, but as the days go by and Rodney and Radek’s war of attrition continues, her expression begins to shift to one of disbelief that they are being so immature. 

Radek, personally, thinks it is almost funny, in a pathetic sort of way, how he’s never realized how much time he _spends_ with Rodney, not until they are no longer speaking to each other and he finds himself with time on his hands. 

And Radek really does have time, now that there is no Rodney dragging him from the lab to the commissary so that Radek is forced to endure the other man‘s long-winded complaints about the latest stunt one of the other scientists have pulled, watch Rodney inhale his meal (no wonder the man enjoys MREs, he doesn’t actually _taste_ them), and try in vain to protect his own food from being pilfered. 

Radek is startled, almost unnerved really, the first time that he looks up at around midnight and realizes that he can _go to sleep_. There is no Rodney hovering next to him, bright-eyed from coffee and babbling about his latest theory on saving some of the ZPM’s power, no Rodney rolling his eyes and pointing at a part of an equation on his laptop and demanding to know what law of science he’s chosen to ignore to come up with _that_. 

During the next week, Radek should have been getting the best sleep he’s had since they stepped through the Stargate. Instead, he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his quarters, unable to close his eyes, instead remembering the hard-eyed, furious look on Rodney’s face and wondering at the knot of almost-grief that has settled in his stomach like a stone; he is lucky if he gets two, three hours of sleep a night. This whole state of affairs is pitiful, and especially pathetic is the fact that Radek is mourning their lost friendship like some love-sick--

Time marches on, of course, and after a few weeks of this, Sheppard is no longer swinging from one opinion to another -- he is firmly entrenched in being annoyed. The scientists still keep quiet, especially after Rodney overhears Kavanagh’s ‘theory’ and gives him the tongue-lashing of his life. Carson’s expression gets more and more worried, and he has taken to asking Radek soft, pointed questions about if he’s having trouble sleeping. And Elizabeth....

* * *

“This is ridiculous!” Elizabeth snaps, glaring at them both. “I know that you two are both mature, responsible adults. I’ve seen your records, I know your physical ages. However, for the past three weeks, you both have been acting like _children_!” 

Radek resists the urge to glance wistfully at the door and freedom. As soon as the meeting had adjourned, Carson and the other members of SGA-1 scattered to the winds, sensibly fleeing Elizabeth’s wrath. Unfortunately, Radek is not so lucky. Instead, he resigns himself to looking at a spot just beside Elizabeth’s ear and saying, “My apologies. I should have waited until after the meeting to inform McKay on how absolutely _ridiculous_ his latest theory is--”

“It is _not_ ridiculous!” Rodney’s denial is almost a squawk, and Radek turns a scornful look upon the other man. Rodney’s mouth is at the same mulish angle as it has been since their original argument, and Radek has the sudden, intense urge to grab Rodney’s chin and squeeze, if just to get that damn look off his face. “Just because _you_ didn’t come up with it--”

“--How can I come up with anything of use to Atlantis when you have me fiddling with puddlejumper engines every waking hour instead of allowing me to work on my _research_\--”

“--Excuse me? I am not preventing you from doing research, I just--”

“Gentlemen!” 

Radek looks guiltily at Elizabeth, who is now looking both exasperated and weary. It is the naked exhaustion on her face that makes a tendril of shame entwine with the constant knot of almost-grief, because really, he should have been able to keep his temper during the meeting, waiting until afterwards to point out the obvious flaws of Rodney’s latest ‘ingenious plan.’ 

She sighs, and it is a tired sound that intensifies Radek’s remorse. “I don’t know what you two are arguing about, since you both refuse to tell me the nature of your disagreement. What I do know, however, is that for the good of Atlantis, you two are going to have to agree to disagree.” When Rodney opens his mouth to protest, Radek only a half-second behind him, Elizabeth holds up a quelling hand. “You two are _interrupting_ meetings to snipe at each other. I cannot, will not stand for it. You will simply have to make amends, and that is final.” 

“But--” Rodney begins, but a single sharp look from Elizabeth makes him reconsider his words, and his mulish expression deepens, his blue eyes darkening with an unnamed emotion. “Fine.” He glances at Radek, gaze still dark. “I agree to disagree.” 

‘About what?’ Radek wants to ask, but Elizabeth’s weariness is infectious, especially when he’s gotten so few hours of sleep the past few weeks, and it is all he can do to nod and say, “I do as well.” A wry note colors his words despite his best intentions, but Rodney doesn’t call him on that, just nods curtly and heads for the door. 

Radek looks at his retreating back, and then at Elizabeth, who is wearing an expression that suggests she doesn’t believe it can be that easy, and knows, with a sinking realization that makes the knot feel even heavier in his stomach, that it is not that simple, and that he and Rodney are going to have to really discuss what they have been avoiding for three weeks. He only wishes he wasn’t so _tired_. 

He nods towards Elizabeth, who offers up a wan smile in return, and then silently follows Rodney out the door. The other man is walking at his normal quick pace; for all that Rodney claims revulsion for people who run for _fun_, he always walks at a brisk pace, as though his body is attempting to catch up with the quicksilver speed of his thoughts. Radek follows him, a silent shadow, because he knows he will need to save his strength for when it is truly important. 

Rodney doesn’t head towards the labs, instead heading towards his quarters, and Radek mentally sighs, because that is both good, in that it means privacy, and bad, because Rodney’s quarters are where this entire problem originated. 

“McKay-- _Rodney_,” he says, before they can get any closer to Rodney’s quarters; the name feels like it’s scraping his throat and comes out low and a little hoarse. 

Rodney stops and turns, and Radek was right to assume that things haven’t changed in the slightest, because the mulish expression is still on his face and his eyes are still dark with an unknown emotion. 

“We need to talk,” he says quietly when Rodney just looks at him, and doesn’t really care how clichéd that sounds. “Elizabeth is right, we need to get along, for the good of Atlantis--”

“Come along then,” Rodney interrupts, and Radek supposes he should take some comfort in the fact that Rodney’s tone isn’t dismissive, just matter-of-fact, and that this is the most neutral Rodney’s been towards him since this whole thing began. 

Somehow, it doesn’t make him feel better, and instead even wearier, because Radek doesn’t want to be on _neutral_ terms with Rodney; he wants things to be normal again, with the friendly insults and the banter and the synergy, wants to see one of those lopsided smirks that is Rodney’s trademark directed at him. It is probably pitiful beyond measure, but he wants Rodney to _like_ him again. 

They end up at Rodney’s quarters, the door sliding shut quietly behind them, and Radek suspects that Rodney plans to kick him out as soon as they have finished working out the terms of their armistice. 

“So.” The word is quiet and Radek cannot place the tone; when he looks at Rodney, who is standing next to the door, the other man’s expression has finally shifted from mulish. Now Rodney looks ill at ease, as though he is not certain what to do, what to say. Not meeting his eyes, Rodney clears his throat and begins awkwardly, “I suppose I should explain.” 

When Rodney trails off, the uncomfortable look growing, Radek sighs. Rubbing his face in a vain attempt to feel more awake, he wishes again that he wasn’t so tired; it is difficult to put to words what he’s about to attempt to explain, made even harder by his weariness, and so finally he settles on getting as much across as he can, proper English be damned. “No, please, let me go first.”

Rodney just looks at him, the tight, strained expression on his face intensifying the lines at the corners of his mouth and making him seem older, frayed, not at all the vibrant man Radek has come to know and respect. It is only now, meeting his gaze squarely, that Radek notices that Rodney also hasn’t been sleeping well -- there are bags under his eyes like bruises, and his blue eyes are bloodshot. 

It is Radek’s turn to clear his throat, and when he speaks, the words are low and as hoarse as when he’d called out Rodney’s name in the hallway. “At first...at first I think you are angry because you believe I will tell people what you were doing when I walked in. Of course, I would never do this, but I say to myself, Rodney is upset, not thinking clearly. After a few days, he will realize I have not told the rumor mill, and will stop avoiding me. But you do not, and I begin to think that maybe you truly are angry at me for invading your privacy, and then I believe you are overreacting. After all, if it upsets you so much that it affects our working relationship, there is little worry that I would be foolish enough to repeat such a mistake. And then you begin punishing me, giving me menial tasks that I could do in my sleep and I begin to get angry--” 

Rodney’s expression shifts to one of almost astonishment at that and he opens his mouth to speak -- to protest, most likely -- but Radek waves him silent and continues. “I begin to feel angry, that you do not feel we can discuss the incident like reasonable men, and instead we fight like children, throwing insults at each other.” He pauses, and a sigh escapes his lips, the sound soft and weary. “I do not like that a single mistake has apparently ruined both our working relationship and our friendship. And I do consider you a friend. Odd as it may sound, I find I enjoy your company.” Perhaps more than he ought to, for the sake of his sanity, but Radek knows that adding _that_ piece to the conversation would destroy any chance at a reconciliation of any sort. 

There is silence for a moment, during which Radek searches his head for more words, more sentences, and comes up empty -- his vocabulary has dried up, and so there is nothing to do but stand there and wait for Rodney’s reaction. 

Rodney is back to avoiding his gaze, though now his expression is unreadable, filled with so many various emotions that Radek cannot put a label on the look, just pick out a few sentiments like nervousness and frustration. “Uh, my turn then.” He is still looking everywhere Radek isn’t. “Before I say anything, I should probably explain I wasn’t punishing you, consciously, I mean. I just needed some space, and well, I suppose I can see how you would think I was giving you menial tasks, but honestly, it wasn’t my intention, at all, I just needed time to...think.” 

He pauses, looks almost expectantly at Radek, face falling when Radek just looks back, as though Radek should perhaps be nodding and saying ‘I understand, Rodney’ and making this all easier for him. “Anyway, I just, uh, thought you should know that.” He hesitates again, and then says, quieter, “And also, um, you should know that if you want to stick to the working relationship after I’ve, uh, said what needs to be said, to, uh, dissolve our friendship, I understand completely, and it won’t affect your position in the science division at all.” 

As Radek blinks and tries to figure out what Rodney could possibly mean by that -- certainly Rodney doesn’t think Radek will discard their friendship over Rodney being a temporary idiot? -- but Rodney is trudging on, voice still quiet and now oddly dogged, as though he’s forcing out every syllable despite his instincts telling him not to say a word.

“When you barged in on me that night, I -- well, you know what I was doing, of course, it was, well, fairly obvious to anyone who’s not blind. And you’re not.” Rodney pauses, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘unfortunately.’ “And, as you would expect, I was embarrassed, even if it is a perfectly natural thing to do, honestly, I was only responding to a, a biological need, so there really was nothing to be embarrassed about. Shouldn’t have been, anyway. Only, well, it was embarrassing. Very. A better choice of words would be humiliating, actually.” And the myriad of emotions on Rodney’s face have condensed into a single look of mortification, redness coloring his face and turning the tips of his ears pink. “You see, the fact of the matter is, well, when you walked in on me, I was -- I was--” 

“You were?” Radek prods, gently, when Rodney stops and his lopsided mouth twists into an expression of absolute embarrassment. Only a few minutes earlier, he wouldn’t have been so gentle, wouldn’t have tried to make this easier for the other man, but the look of mortification has eased some of the anger that still lingered, because Radek understands that at times Rodney fears humiliation almost more than death itself. 

“I was,” Rodney says, sounding almost strangled, “I was jerking off to a particular fantasy of mine, and -- and, God, you have no idea how it _feels_, having the person you’re currently thinking about walk in on you!” And then his mouth clamps shut, his face going from crimson to absolutely colorless in an instant, and it’s clear he hadn’t meant to phrase things quite that bluntly. 

Radek blinks, and searches his head for something, anything to say, but his vocabulary is still out of his reach and all he can manage is an ineloquent, “Ah.” Now, though, it all makes sense, and even his sleep-deprived brain can lay out the facts and clues that should have pointed him to this conclusion, if Radek had only paid attention or even considered the possibility that Rodney might be anything other than straight. 

“I suppose we’ll, uh, laugh about this later,” Rodney declares, in a slightly higher voice than usual, the words still sounding a bit strangled and raw, and his expression is so utterly _wretched_ that Radek feels the knot in his stomach twist in sympathy. “A few years from now, we’ll look back and laugh and--”

“No,” Radek hears himself say, voice quiet and rough, and understands that no, he never will, because there is nothing whatsoever amusing about the wretched look of misery on Rodney’s face. “No, we won’t.” 

Rodney visibly tenses at that, and his expression tightens, as though he’s readying himself for whatever insult Radek is going to throw at him, preparing himself for a punch that Radek is about to land on Rodney’s face. The lines around his mouth deepen as Radek steps forward, but Rodney doesn’t move, apparently willing to take whatever punishment Radek is going to mete out. 

“Rodney,” he says again, taking one step, and then another, until they are nose-to-nose, and he can see every mark that sleepless nights and being the witness to numerous deaths of his fellow scientists have carved into Rodney’s face, close enough that he can see the way Rodney‘s eyes dilate a little from nervousness, hear the soft hitch in Rodney’s breathing. “We will never, _ever_ laugh about this.”

Rodney blinks at the sudden steel in his voice, eyebrows lowering and those crooked lips twisting in bewilderment. “Look, if you’re going to hit me, I’d really prefer you do it now so I don’t--”

Radek rolls his eyes. “I am not going to hit you, Rodney.” 

“Oh.” The bewildered expression remains on Rodney’s face as he processes that. “That’s, uh, good.” 

His fingers itch to cup Rodney’s face again and smooth out the bemused slant of Rodney’s lips, and this time, unlike all the other times, he gives into the temptation to touch, reaching out with hands that shake in a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. The hitch in Rodney’s breathing is even more audible as Radek cradles his face and brushes a finger against the other man’s mouth. His lips are warm and slightly chapped against his skin, and Radek feels the knot in his stomach begin to unravel.

He cannot help but smile a little at the expression of astonishment that blooms on Rodney’s face. “This was not how you imagined I would take your announcement?” he asks mildly, and moves his finger away to let Rodney speak. 

“Uh, I was leaning towards ‘being pummeled within an inch of my life’ as the end result, honestly,” Rodney mutters, still looking astonished. Slowly, a smile creeps across his lips, and then Radek feels the knot give at the sight of the trademark McKay smirk, full and bright. “But this? Works much better.” 

“I am inclined to agree,” Radek says, tone mock-grave, and as Rodney’s smirk widens and gets the first hints of smugness around the edges, Radek gives into the temptation to kiss him, effectively silencing whatever remark Rodney was about to make. 

* * *

“So, I look over, and that idiot Kavanagh is attempting to edit my work. _My_ work!” 

Radek can hear the strident, aggrieved declaration all the way from where he is standing in line, putting an MRE on his tray, and resists the urge to roll his eyes heavenward. It is times like these that he wonders how Major Sheppard keeps his ears from bleeding. 

Ignoring the curious looks several in the commissary are directing towards him, he walks confidently over to where Rodney and Sheppard are sitting and places his tray next to Rodney, commenting cheerfully, “Kavanagh may have even less social graces than _you_, Rodney, but he is not an idiot when it comes to science.” 

Rodney huffs around a mouthful of the cookie he’s just stuffed in his mouth, and rolls his eyes at him, obviously intending to give him a piece of his mind once he’s swallowed. 

Radek cannot keep from smirking or from taking advantage of the temporarily silent Rodney. “Besides, there _was_ an error in your calculations. It just wasn’t what Kavanagh was attempting to fix.” 

Sheppard eyes a now-choking Rodney first, and then Radek, and finally offers them one of his broad grins. “Good to see you two are finally playing nice again,” he drawls, and then leans back in his chair to watch the show as Rodney chokes down the cookie and begins to explain, loudly, how there had _not_ been an error in his calculations, and besides, Radek hadn’t been there, so how would he know anyway, unless Simpson’s been spreading lies, the wench, and--

Radek is aware of the whispers being muttered under Rodney’s vocal declarations, theorizing about why the Chief Scientist and his unofficial second-in-command have suddenly mended their friendship and speculating on why, exactly, they’d had a falling out to begin with. He mentally snorts, because the gossips are going to have to content themselves with theories, and then rolls his eyes and cuts Rodney short with a pointed remark about how he really ought to tell Simpson about that wench comment and hey, didn’t Elizabeth mention something last week about ‘diversity and quality seminars’ because of exactly that type of comment?

When Rodney just glares, Sheppard sighs almost contentedly. “I really, really missed this.”


End file.
